The Other Side
by 1destiny
Summary: A normal world meeting in Russia. All are required to attend... except Prussia, and he is not happy about it. But when things start going wrong and his brother and friends don't come home, he is the one who has to get to the bottom of it, with only the help of micro-nations, a grumpy South Italian, and...himself? Together they must find the rest of the world and stop the lookalikes
1. Jilted

**AN from 1D**: Hey people and HetaPhiles! I want to say thanks for clicking on this newest FanFic! I'm actually Co-Authoring this with a friend of mine, since I'm working on another fanfic at this time. I got this idea for a fan made RPG game but I didn't have the gear or the expertise to make it. I was then going to turn it into a fanfic but I had to write my other one and deal with school stuff. So I was getting ready to file this away into the black hole of my brain to never be heard from again when I told my friend my idea. To put it simply, she flipped. We came up with a plan that I would do the plot and the illustrations, (Soon to be up on DeviantArt, links provided in the near future) while she would do the actual writing. Now, for your pleasure, I would like to present: The Other Side, by 1Destiny and JesEm (You know who you are! :D))

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"BRRUUUUUUDDDDDDEERRRRRRR!"

Germany gave an exasperated sigh as he took of his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Vhat is it Prussia?" He asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Gilbert slammed his hands on the large desk Ludwig was sitting behind, scattering a neat stack of carefully planned documents. Ludwig narrowed his blue eyes. He spent all morning organizing those for the coming meeting! Gilbert met his younger brother's stare with his own fiery red eyes, his lips in a tight scowl. Gilbird hopped on his shoulder, being extremely fluffy, due to his owner's agitation.

"Vhy?" Gilbert inquired.

"Vhy… Vhat?" Germany responded as he stood from his chair, making his way around the desk, carefully picking up the papers.

"You know vhy! Vhy can't ze AWESOME ME go to the world meeting!?" Gilbert asked in his ever-so-blunt fashion. He took a step back crossing his arms, as Germany made his way over. Gilbert flew around his head now, chirping loudly, sounding just as peeved.

Ludwig sighed again as he placed the last paper in its proper place and turned to face Prussia. "It's because this meeting is extremely important. You've been too obnoxious lately, and I don't want you to screw this up!" Ludwig shouted, near the end of his rope.

"Vhat do you mean, 'screw it up'? Ze AWESOME ME never screws anything up!" Prussia retaliated.

"Yes, you do," Germany stated, "And besides, this is a meeting for all **current** nations. The fact that you live in my house is obvious!"

Prussia flinched then quickly covered his hurt. He stalked toward the door.

"And besides," Ludwig continued, a bit more gentle this time, "It's being held in Russia. It don't think it would be very good if you go there still."

Prussia 'humpffhed' and continued walking, "So vhat? I decided that ze Awesome Me doesn't need to go to a _stupid_ world meeting which is meant for _**loser**_ **current** nations."

And with that, Prussia walked out the door, Gilbird flying in front. He made sure to slam the door on the way out.

Germany's POV

Germany's frown grew as the door was slammed shut, its buffeting wind scattering even more papers around.

"Maybe I vas too hard on him…" he quietly said. He ran his hand through his hair, pondering what to do. He was startled when his cell-phone went of. He picked it up of his desk and saw what it was. A text message from America:

HEY, YO, EVERYBODY!

HOPE YA'LL HAVE GOTTEN

UR REPORTS READY FOR THE

WORLD MEETING TOM.!

OF COURSE AS THE HERO

I'LL GO FIRST CUZ I GOT

THE BEST PLAN! TTFN

~AMERICA THE HERO~

Germany, tired of sighing, sent a quick text message back:

America, I'll remind you again,

That the meeting is being hosted by

Russia, so he will start. And as a

favor to us all, I truly hope you DO

have some legitimate solution to the

problems we will be discussing.

-Germany

Germany looked up, then ran his hand through his hair again. America _was_ right, unfortunately. He did need to finish his report. So he quickly, surely, moved about the room, setting everything back to order, before he got started… again, pushing Prussia's personal feelings aside for the moment.

Prussia's POV

Prussia's boots smacked against the floorboards, his anger clearly evident. Gilbird flew a few circles around his head before settling down on top. He made little soft sympathetic noises, but could do so little to improve his master's mood. Prussia reached his room, sliding through the doorway, Gilbird taking off again to perch on a corner of the bed. Gilbert's phone rang, so he took it out of his pocket. One glance at the message then he snorted in disgust dropping it on the dresser, and him on the bed, nearly squashing Gilbird. Gilbird huffed then skulked onto his outstretched finger.

"STUPID World Meeting! I am ze AWESOME Prussia!" The Prussian grumbled to no one in particular. He flopped back onto the covers. He then deliberately picked up his pillow and covered his face.

He hated it. He hated always being left out; so what if he wasn't technically a country anymore? He was just as important as everybody else, perhaps even more! HE WAS THE AWESOME PRUSSIA! How dare he be forced to stay here, bored, like a naughty kid, while the other nations got to do really cool nation-y things!

He grumbled. Nothing to do or anyone to bother, this was going to be a lllooooooooonnngg three days.

Germany's POV

Germany allowed himself a small smile as he printed the final copy of his report. This, he anticipated, should have a good discussion, and perhaps solve a few minor problems. Biggest problem was to have everyone review it and agree on it. And for that, he needed to be at the meeting.

Ludwig got up and placed the thick file in his briefcase, secured it, then took it with him as he walked out of his office. He made his way to his bedroom. He placed the bag on his bed then walked to his closet, taking out a travel case. He placed in the appropriate toiletries and such, and then took his time choosing his clothes. He needed to look as professional and serious as always, so a black suit, and blue shirt and tie. That should do… until Germany noticed that a splatter of red was on the tie. How did that… then he noticed a half-eaten plate of pasta sitting on the shelf behind. PASTA!? Germany quickly checked the rest of the closet, just to make sure the pasta-lover wouldn't be stuck when he was away.

After verifying that nobody was there, Ludwig pulled out a metallic grey shirt and tie instead. He carefully packed it away, then, as an afterthought, went back to the closet. He pulled out a similar suit jacket to the other. It was just a bit thicker, and had special pockets meant for... He quickly made his way downstairs to the kitchen, opened the door, and took out six bottles of beer. He faced had a slight blush… the meetings would be so long!

Quickly, before anyone noticed, he ran back up the stairs, carrying the bottles. He stuffed them in his bag, tucked inside the special jacket. He closed the suitcase, grabbed the other bag, and walked out his door. He reached the outside door, grabbing the keys from the coat rack. Ludwig then yelled back, "Brudder! I'm leaving! I'll be back in about two days! Try not to make a mess of the house," then paused and added, "Please!" He waited for a moment for a response. When he didn't get one, he sighed. He had no more time to be waiting for a reply, no more time to wait for Prussia's feelings to cool. He had to go. So he did.

Prussia's POV

Gilbert heard his brother's call, who couldn't? But he didn't feel like replying. He was still too put off and bitter about what happened. It wasn't really HIS fault on how history was played, so now he was just an awesome decoration in Germany's house? He felt like it. But an awesome decoration that could still generate disorder. Prussia grinned. Oh, he wouldn't TRY to 'make a mess of the house'…

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_**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING BUT THE PLOT LINE!**_


	2. Please Leave a Message

**Disclaimer: Hetalia=NOT MINE!**

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Prussia's POV

Three days later, Prussia's face hit the floor.

With a few choice words, he staggered up, leaning against the couch he fell off of. He brought his hand up to his face, although he shouldn't have. The stink that came about from, well, everywhere, was over powering. His satisfied smirk was now set on his face as he looked around. He did a fine job of making a mess of the place. There was plenty of junk food wrappers scattered on the floor, crushed beer cans, a few broken beer bottles in the pile of more empty bottles in the corner. In the kitchen, dishes were leaning precariously off the edge of the sink. The floor had tracks of dirt and mud leading nowhere and back again. Gilbert felt that Operation: Nearly-Destroy-House-So-West-Can-Have-A-Surprise was nearly complete. All that was left was for Brudder to come back.

But that was the problem. Prussia checked the time. It was three in the afternoon! West defiantly should have been back by now, unless something happened, but then he would have called. Gilbert checked his cell phone. Nope. He didn't sleep through any calls, or even text messages for that matter. The last one he got was from France two days ago, just before the meetings started. He was explaining how "nice" the models in Russia were, pretty typical of that nation. But Germany being late, not so much, not with his strict O-C-D schedule-ized-ness, would he _ever_ be late.

Gilbert drew his lips into a straight line. If he called, it would seem like he was worried about his younger brother. And the Awesome him NEVER worries! …Aw, forget it! He was worried! He quickly dialed Germany's number, and it rang… once… twice… three times…

…four times

… five

… six

… seven

… on the eight ring, he heard Ludwig's voice, "Hallo. Zi is Germany. I'm not available at ze moment, so leave a message at ze tone. Danke." _Wow, West. What a lame message,_ Prussia thought. Then it occurred to him that he never actually heard Germany's message before, because Germany had **always** answered, even when he had to go to Italy's house to put the fires out.

"HEY WEST! DIS IS ME, PRUSSIA! WHERE THE (bleep) ARE YOU!? HURRY UP WITH THOSE MEETINGS AND GET BACK HOME! VE'RE RUNNING OUT OF BEER!" he said, or more of yelled, into the phone. He set the phone on the nearby table. Two seconds later, snatched it back, and dialed Ludwig's number.

He waited…

He tried it again.

And waited…

And again.

And waited…

"Fine, if mein younger Brudder doesn't vant to talk, than I von't!" he stated to Gilbird. In reply, Gilbird shrilled a few high notes.

He waited for a few more seconds, and then furiously started text-bombing Germany. "AAAAANNNNNSSSSSSSSSSSSSSEEEE EERRRRRRRRR MMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he nearly screamed. Prussia almost laughed as he headed to his room, thinking about all the texts he just sent. But the satisfaction was gone as the last text message was gone. There was nothing left to do.

"Vait a minute! I can ask main most reliable friends! They'll know!" Prussia said as he started dialing France's number. To his great disappointment, France's cell phone went straight to voice-mail. _VHAT IS THE DEAL PEOPLE!? You ALL have your cell phones off?! _Gilbert snorted in disgust, not even bothering to finish listening to France's instructions. There was no freakin' way he would bend over backwards to leave a message for the flirtatious nation.

Up next was Spain. "Come on, old friend! Answer ze Awesome Me!" Prussia said as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other repeatedly. But he was pleasantly surprised when Antionio actually did pick up. He was almost speechless for a second, then, "ANTIONIO! YOU ACTUALLY PICKED UP! VHERE THE (bleep) ARE YOU NATIONS?! YOU KNOW HOW BOARED I'VE BEEN!? VHERE'S MEIN BRUDDER? VHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

"…Hiding. We're all trying to hide." Spain's terrified voice almost wasn't heard.

"VHAT? Vhat do you mean? Hiding from vhat?" Gilbert inquired. He hadn't ever heard the happy fanatical tomato-lover so frightened.

"SILENCIOSO!" Spain hissed "They'll hear you! Vas a conseguir que me llamó! You're going to get me capturado! They already took Brittan and Russia! I think they went after either America or Germany next!"

"VHAT!? Vhat do you mean? Who took West?!"

"Cállate! Cállate! If I don't make it back, tell Romano tha- aa-AAAAHHHH!"

"Antonio! Spain! SPAIN! Vhat. Is. GOING. ON!?" Gilbert screamed into the phone. But he was screaming at nothing. Spain was dead.

At least Spain's phone was. Prussia truly hoped that the nation _didn't_ die. It sucked when you came back from the dead. True, personified nations could take a lot of hits, but in the case of major battles or weakened states, they could 'die'. They would eventually come back from the freaky grey limbo, but only if their people were strong enough to support them, and if they hadn't submitted to anyone other nation in the main time.

Prussia furrowed his brows in worry. He then broke into a half-hearted grin. "He he, very funny Toni. Great prank you guys thought of," He laughed as he called Spain back.

Problem. Spain's cell said that it was disconnected. Gilbert tried again. Still nothing. "YOU STUPID NATIONS! STOP MESSING WITH ME!" He was too worried to even call himself "awesome" anymore. He slammed the phone back on to the table.

He fell silent. Something was wrong. **Really Wrong.** Prussia paced across the floor, kicking cans and bottles out of the way. _Vhat could he do?_ The meeting was in Russia. He didn't want to go, his Awesome-self would freeze! But where _was_ West? Thanks to Spain, he didn't many answers, just more questions.

Gilbert's frown grew. The facts were this: he, ze Awesome Prussia, had to stay behind. Since he did, the supply of good food, and more importantly, beer, was extremely low. West needed to get back and go shopping!

Prussia ran his hand through his hair, "Do I **really** need to go all the vay to Russia's house to get you, Brudder? I mean _**really**_West, _Vhat __**are**__ you doing?"_

* * *

*silencioso – quiet

* Vas a conseguir que me llamó! – They're going to hear you!

* Cállate! Cállate! – Hush! Hush!


	3. The Awesome Diary-entry one

**Disclaimer: Hetalia mine? NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE...**

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Dear Awesome Diary,

It is cold. It is wet. It is snowing. Right now, it is totally Un-Awesome! Nothing like me! No wonder Ivan is such a creepy person, his country sucks! And it sucks even worse that I have to be here!

After West never came back from the 'All important' World Meeting, and getting a really weird phone call from Spain, I now have to drag my arsch to Russia's house to drag him back.

And the flight was totally un-awesome too, but I won't say much about it. Let's just call it good that trying to get an emergency flight ticket to Moscow is tough these days! And trying to get through those verdammt lines (I SWEAR THAT GUARD WAS HITTING ON ME! IT WAS CREEPY!) it sucks! And that you shouldn't try arguing with a flight attendant, even if you think they're really cute, cuz they_ will_ call for security (I didn't know men that big could fit on a plane) especially after you've drunk the limit of alcohol. It totally sucked! The limit is now only five for bier! That's nothing! I had more than That the last time I went to France's party in under twenty minutes!

And when I got off the plane it was eiskalt. There were icicles everywhere! And I was inside! So I vent to the baggage lane to get my stuff but it never showed up! So I went to the baggage claim assistant and she went to talk to the baggage boys (what lame losers! They have such a sucky job!) to figure out what the problem. Well, after about an HOUR of "Searching!" the assistant came back and said that it never arrived. And you know what they said!? Because I didn't have insurance the airport wasn't responsible! I had an emergency supply of beer in there! I need it!

I seriously need a bier right now. Not any of this verdammt vodka… they don't sell anything else at the verdammt airport.

So, I had go buy a brand new coat. I was so cold my AWESOME arsch was almost frozen! And when I looked, there weren't many coats my size left… and they were women's (man! France was right, those Russian Damen are big!)… It was humiliating! So, of course, I charged the bill to West's account! That made me feel a little better about the whole situation. Serves him right for making me be the responsible one!

Speaking of which, the taxi driver, who is clearly trying to rip me off, just stopped, I'm guessing I arrived at Russia's house, but I can't really tell because the windows are frosty. I don't really don't want to go to that creepy-commie's place, but I will enjoy flipping roles with West, if only to yell at him for a few minutes.

So for now, try to survive without the AWESOME ME!

ZE AWESOME PRUSSIA!

* * *

Arsch- Ass

Verdamnt- Damn

Eiskalt- Freezing

Damen- ladies

* * *

**AN from 1D**: Yes this one is short. It is more of a filler that's meant to ... well, fill. Next chapter promises to be good though. JesEm keeps telling me it's gonna be as awesome as Prussia. I can also assure you that some questions will be answered and some more will come up. Big action will be a part as well so stay tuned! :D


	4. In Cold Blood

**Hetalia ownage is not something I claim.**

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Prussia huffed as he watched the cab driver pull away. "Total rip-off! Making me pay about 100 Euros just to get here! Brudder had better be here," he mumbled as he turned toward the impending door. He noticed the doorbell conveniently located so he pushed on it. There was a crash inside.

"Vhat vas zhat?" Gilbert wondered. In reply was a single chirp from Gilbird. He waited. The cold was seeping into his body despite the warm coat. Gilbird huddled closer to the crook of Prussia's neck, the little ball of fluff freezing. Prussia stomped his feet, just to keep his blood circulating. Nobody was coming.

He rang the doorbell again. There was no sound from the other side. The wind picked up a little, moving the tops of the nearby trees. Prussia's ruby eyes shifted, scowling at the invisible energy mocking at his chill. "SHTUPID DOOR! Sich auftun!" he shouted as he banged on the doorbell repeatedly. Gilbert sighed, his fingers now hurt from the cold and the abuse.

He waited a little longer then, "Feine. Vhatever. Nobody's home." He turned to go, facing the possibility that he had over reacted and that West would be back home and that he had missed a perfect opportunity to witness his one-of-a-kind anger. Then again, Prussia was the only one stupid brave enough to instigate it. When he had taken a step away from the intimidating door, it swung open and a gigantic shadowed figured stood in the way.

"GAH! Er-um…" Prussia coughed when he saw who was there.

"You need not to barge on my property or break my door, da?" the behemoth asked.

Gilbert swallowed and summoned his obnoxious courage to push past him and say, "Ja, vell, first I didn't barge onto your property. And shecond, I dragged my butt to zhis un-Awesome ice castle because West never came back from the vorld meeting and nobody was anshwering any of mein messages. I mean REALLY! Vhat have you people been doing vithout ze awesome me?" He relaxed a little once he was inside and a little warmer, but was still refusing to meet the Russian's face, preferring to look at the floor instead.

Russia, on the other hand, was absorbed by the albino's speech, though his stony face gave nothing away. He abruptly slammed the door, standing in front, his long black coat swirling around his legs.

"I'm actually happy that you came, Prussia," the large man said, his voice a strict monotone.

"Eh, why? Did West bring too much of his bier to the meeting?" Gilbert asked. He, of course, knew about the jacket, because he gave it to him several years ago. "Hey, Russia," he started, finally glancing up a little, "You look a little different…" He could have sworn he saw a frown appear on the childish face for a nanosecond, then Russia's face went back to it stony contour.

"I don't know what you mean by that. I always look this way." Before Prussia could argue Russia continued, "But if you want to see Germany, come with mne." Russia walked past Gilbert, heading down a hallway.

Gilbert huffed, "Feine, vhatever, just as long as I get to yell at Germany soon." A short smile danced on his lips, thinking about how fun it would be to switch roles, and then it was gone as he realized that he was in Russia's house. Gilbird gave a few short chirps and pumped his little wings. "Ja, how could I not notice? There's something wrong with Ivan. And for another, vhere's the Baltics? They're usually hiding somevhere, but not this vell." He muttered, as he passed a few open doors.

Russia continued, now going up some stairs. Prussia stopped. He noticed something in the next room, so he walked over. Something caught the light from the hall. Prussia flipped on the switch and choked. There, on the floor, were Estonia's glasses, broken and scratched drastically. The nearby desk had papers scattered about, and the chair was tipped over. A few scratches were on the walls, and the window, though crooked, was wide open. And, most unsettling of all… there were smatterings of, what Prussia could only assume, was… _blood_.

His ruby eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. "Russia! Vaht is this!? Vhat have you done to the Baltics?!" he yelled. His eyes widened as he saw, no, felt a dull metal object smash into him. His head snapped around as he fell on his back, his arms flailing. Gilbird flew up and away from the chaos. Gilbert brought his hands up to his neck, hoping to straighten his popped vertebra.

"You shouldn't have come in here, Prussia," A very dismal voice muttered, "I was going to take you to see your brother for perhaps the last time in a very long time, but now, most frustratingly, I have another mess to clean up."

The speech, though seemingly uncaring about any well-being seemed truly disappointed about having to do what the speaker did next. Gilbert yelped, jerking his legs just in time for the object to miss his knees, instead, smacking his femur. He rolled to the side, somehow grabbing the glasses and clutched them in his left hand. His eyes snapped up to see Russia standing there, tapping the hammer in his left hand, looking somehow disappointed and bored at the same time. This rather surprised him. He thought that Ivan would at least have a freaky creeper smile plastered on his face. But there was nothing. No enjoyment. No enjoyment whatsoever.

Ivan picked up the shovel again, "If you would stay in one place, instead of moving around like a rabbit, this could be over quickly, and I could get back to what I need to be doing, da?"

Prussia scoffed as he pushed himself up against the wall, his legs protesting against the weight of his body. "Ja right! Vhat _vould_ you be doing? Terrorizing the Baltics? Vhat did zhey ever do to deserve a beating from you?" He clenched his fist tight around what he held.

"It was nothing personal. Just orders," Russia shrugged as he brought the shovel around for another hit. Prussia dodged; trying to find a way past the giant, but was unsuccessfully pushed back against the wall.

"Just orders?" he spat, "Orders from who? Your Russia, you never take orders from anybody! Not unless it suites y-gah!" He wheezed as a fist was instantly located on his stomach. He dropped to the floor, but had little time to recover as a boot kicked him in the shoulder. He saw the swirl of a black coat… _black coat! Russia always wears a_- a large fist hit him across the temple, causing thought to stop momentarily. Prussia tried sucking in a little amount of air, but was futile, especially when the hand clamped around his throat.

"Like I said, it's nothing personal. You just happen to be weaker." Russia, _or was it?,_ simply said. Gilbert squinted, looking at the pink tinged grey but emotionless eyes that stared back at him. Everything about Russia seemed the same… sort of. He still had the oversized nose, but it seemed crooked like it had been broken before. And the wavy blond hair now seemed a shade darker. And the usual childish smile couldn't even be hinted, the face was a sullen stone. The scarf was now a deep red, almost brown, matching the coat's deep shade of brown, nearly black, color. Prussia realized that something had happened… but what? What did Spain say earlier…? He couldn't remember, the lack of air affecting all processes. His attacks were growing weaker, his sight slowly focusing on a single point of light.

Suddenly, the pressure was released when he heard the man opposite grunt. Gilbert slid down the wall, pulling as much air as he could into himself. He couldn't see, black dots still clouding his vision. Something fluffy landed on his hands. Prussia realized it was Gilbird when he chirped.

"Vell, you are handy in a fight, _klein Vogel_," he said. Gilbird just shrilled.

"That was me, stupido!" A new, and very angry, voice said.

"R-Romano?" Prussia asked when he could see clearly. The Italian stood in front, rubbing his hand. His amber eyes flashed and the scowl returned.

"Who else, idiota? Now how-a the *** did you get into this mess? Have you seen-a my fratello… or… or that *** Spain?" His look now turned to worry, and even fear.

"Nein, I- Watch Out!" Prussia yelled as he saw Russia attacking. Romano's eyes widened in shock, and surprisingly dodged the oncoming blow faster than Gilbert could blink.

Russia seemed to sigh, "Why must you people complicate this even more?"

"Hey you *** *** *** cold hearted ***, where is everybody? Everyone has-a disappeared since the meeting!" Romano shouted.

"Hey, I'm still here!" Prussia protested, getting up. He wasn't fully recovered, but he didn't want to be stuck sitting on the ground in a fight.

"Everyone who's important!" Romano snapped.

"But …I'm AWESOME!" Prussia continued.

"I don't *** care if you are or not. I just-a want to know where my fratello is!"

Gilbert let it slide for the moment, facing Russia, "And so do I Ivan. Vhere is everybody? Vhat have you done?"

"Just following orders." Prussia could have sworn some sort of emotion flickered across the Russian's face. …Was it… fear? "You could have seen you brothers, but then you went and threw a fit now, da? So, do svidaniya." Russia raised his weapon.

He swung around, nicking Romano in the shoulder. Romano yelped as a second hit succeeded, this time in the head. The Italian crumpled to the floor, stunned. Prussia huffed, "Zhis is so Un-Awesome…" he muttered as, against better judgment, he launched himself toward Russia, just before a third and fatal hit could be taken. He wrapped his arms around the colossal neck of his opponent, tugging the scarf out of the way. Russia struggled for a moment, and then quickly back peddled, crushing Gilbert against the wall. Prussia gasped, but tightened his grip even more. There was no way he was going to let go! Russia wasn't about to stop either, he continued smashing Prussia against the wall. Prussia grunted each time, each time slowly losing his grip. Russia gave one last hard heave, defiantly crushing the Prussian's diaphragm. He couldn't choke him anymore. Forget that! He couldn't even hang on anymore!

His fingers, no longer able to grasp, gave up their fight.

"Nein!" Prussia weakly yelled. He wouldn't, he couldn't fall again. His legs, though sorely bruised, if not broken, managed to stay locked. He hunched over, coughing. Blood spurted from his lips as he was shoved against the wall, a solid punch to the chest. He winced.

Gilbert glared at the Russian, his fiery eyes meeting the grey and pink tinged ones. It still confused him as to how much Russia had changed, not just his looks, but his entire personality. The old Ivan would have had a sick childish smile and a high creepy giggle. He would have _enjoyed_ this fight. But this one seemed to almost detest it.

"Stop struggling," Was all the man said as he raised his weapon. Prussia, of course, didn't listen to the ill-advice. He opted to spit out the pool of blood that has collected in his mouth instead. Surprised, and a little disgusted, Russia let go, wiping off the spittle. But as soon as he did that, Gilbird flew down from where he was hiding, adding his piece to the battle. Prussia could only snicker.

By now the tall man was furious. It was bad enough that he had been distracted from his job, but to be humiliated in this way was too far! He gripped his weapon tightly now. "Vy budete platitʹ," he stated in a loud voice. Quickly, before Gilbert could react, Russia snatched Gilbird from the air, who was doing a victory flight for his little stunt. Gilbird gave a little pitiful chirp, before he was covered in a large hand.

"Nein! GILBIRD!" Prussia shouted. He jerked, the pain starting to affect him.

"Da. Unless you happen to stay still, your little friend will be crushed." The hand tightened a fraction, to make the Russian's point clear.

Prussia glared at him, but he didn't move, except to fall to his knees, his legs finally giving out. His breaths came is little gasps, his pain and fear growing as Russia approached.

"Khorosho," was the only thing he said as he swung the hammer toward Prussia.

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Sich auftun! – Open up!

Feine – Fine

Mne – me

klein Vogel – little bird

Fratello – brother

do svidaniya – goodbye

Vy budete platitʹ - you will pay

Khorosho - good

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_**Note from 1D: Hello! Hope you liked chapter 4, I am rather fond of it myself. JesEm and I were talking and I want your opinions on something. Do you think the accents should be put in, or should we type normally? I think that, rather than changing the W's to V's, that we should let you, the readers do it in your heads. I'm sure most of you know how Prussia talks. So drop me a line telling me if you like the accent or would rather it be taken away. After all, it is you, the reader, who truly matters!**_


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